Five Times Mike Sucked at Sports
by she.a.punk
Summary: ...and one time he totally dominated. Mike's a geek, a bookworm, some might even go so far as to say a skinny white boy. But he grew up in a poor neighborhood where the local park was good for two things: drug deals...and this.
1. Soccer

**A/N:** I've always loved 5 and 1s and decided to add to the abundance of them in this fandom. I'm still working on the next chap of 'when I was young...' by the way, but this was already on my computer. Hope you enjoy and feel like telling me how much!

**Disclaimer**: Suits isn't mine. Not even a little bit. I'm pretty sad about that.

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><p><strong>Part One - Soccer<strong>

Mike hadn't wanted to go on the company retreat to upstate New York in the first place. If he was going to get a paid weekend off he would much rather spend it getting beat at checkers by his grandma. But, the moment he'd mentioned something of the like to Harvey, the older man had made it clearer than glass that the trip was non-negotiable. Something about 'getting it' and needing to learn to play nicely with the 'other little minions'.

So, Mike sucked it up, boarded a charter bus at six in the morning and pretended to be asleep for the four hour ride, ignoring the pointless chest-banging conversation the rest of the associates were having around him and wishing he got to ride on the company plane with Harvey and the other partners.

By the time they got to the destination, a sprawling ranch in the middle of Upper New York countryside, most of the young red-blooded male associates were feeling antsy. Mike wasn't sure who it was that suggested a pick-up soccer game, but he wished he knew so he could beat him with the well worn copy of The Odyssey he'd been planning on reading. That is, before it was yanked from his hands and he was half drug, half pushed, half cajoled into joining the game.

Mike noticed the partners up at the top of the hill overlooking the grassy area the associates had set up for the game, all sipping Mimosas and eying them critically, like bidders at a 4H auction. Briefly, indignation and pride spurred him into the game with as much enthusiasm as he attacked everything. But it faded quickly when he realized all the other associates had grown up in junior soccer leagues led by soccer moms in Mini vans and overloaded with Gatorade. Mike, on the other hand, had only played once in a high school gym class. He'd ended up tripping over the ball and breaking his nose.

Doing his best to ignore these thoughts, Mike ran after the ball like his life depended on it, often having to change direction halfway down the field and many times coming so close to actually getting the ball, only to have it kicked away by a shiny new pair of Reebok sand a slimy smile.

"Better luck next time, Ross."

Mike huffed and puffed all over the field, flinging himself around and often doing a pretty good imitation of a toddler just learning to walk if he managed to get the ball under him, where it never stayed for long. He also managed to trip over it. Twice. And the fourth time he accidentally passed the ball to someone on the other team he was ejected from the game by popular demand.

Mike was too exhausted to be embarrassed. He dropped onto the grass at the bottom of the hill, locking his hands loosely around his knees and tried to get his breath back, under the pretense of watching the game. It was mere minutes before Harvey dropped down beside him.

"Really?"

Mike sighed, his heart still hammering and his skin flush with sweat.

"What?"

"That was pathetic."

Mike looked over at the Senior partner and suddenly felt under dressed. His jeans and t-shirt were unremarkable next to Harvey in his pressed khakis and cardigan. The guy looked like he'd just stepped out of a Tommy Hilfiger ad.

But Mike didn't respond to the dig. It was actually pretty accurate.

"Next time the World Cup comes around I expect you to be better at this." Harvey said as if Mike had just botched another patent order.

Mike frowned lightly, too busy trying to remember where he'd heard the term to even roll his eyes at his boss' dramatics.

"That's like the Super Bowl for soccer, right?"

Harvey sighed, shaking his head and finishing his drink, still watching the associates run around after the ball.

"Pathetic."

**_More to come if you so desire._  
><strong>


	2. Tennis

**A/N:** Thanks SOOOO much for all the reviews! I can't really respond to each one (though I try) but know they TOTALLY make my day. Lol, I was sorry to hear so many of you had experiences similar to Mike regarding soccer! Lets hope the same doesn't hold true with this next sport...

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><p><strong>Part Two – Tennis<strong>

Harvey and Louis didn't spend a lot of time together. In fact, Harvey tried to avoid spending _any_ time with Louis. At all.

But, the partner's break room (which was the same as the associate's break room if you didn't count that it was twice the size with a better coffee maker and leather couches instead of plastic chairs) was only so big. And for some reason Louis always seemed to be there if ever Harvey decided to take a break.

Harvey knew much more than he ever wanted to about Louis Litt.

Like, for example, Harvey was only very aware that Louis was a rather accomplished tennis player. Harvey also knew that the _one_ time Louis had managed to weasel Mike away from him for a game (an instance Harvey still didn't really like to talk about) Mike had put on a rather embarrassing display of tennis ineptitude.

From the way Louis had described it Harvey had assumed he was exaggerating and promptly ignored him, going about his day without so much as a word to the junior partner.

As it turned out, Harvey noted to himself with a touch of irony, Louis had been understating things. By a lot.

"Here," Harvey said, tossing an icepack into the kid's lap. Mike groaned, his head still tilted back leaning against the lockers with a handful of tissues pressed to his nose. Without moving any other muscles in his body, Mike carefully lifted the ice and pressed it to his eye.

"How you doing?" Harvey asked, covering the emotion (for the record: it wasn't concern) in his voice by going about changing his clothes, glancing surreptitiously at his associate every few seconds.

"Till dleeding." Mike mumbled. He was still dressed in the white tennis outfit he'd wore for the game, though it was now dotted in several places with reddish brown spots.

Harvey pulled on his undershirt and tucked it into his suit pants. He rolled his eyes when Mike shifted his weight, bumping a bruise on his leg causing him to jump and let the ice slip from his hand to the floor.

"Hold it," Harvey barked, pushing Mike's head back when the young man started to lean forward to get the ice pack. He pushed with just a bit too much force and accidentally made Mike bang his head against the lockers causing the young man to groan again and make a rather pitiful gasping noise. Harvey winced, swallowing an apology and placed the ice back in the kid's hand.

"Lemme see." He leaned over and covered Mike's hand with his to carefully pull the tissue away from Mike's nose. Harvey grimaced at the flakey red crust that had formed in and around Mike's nose and along his upper lip.

"It's stopped bleeding. You're lucky Mr. Galleski has arthritis," he muttered, tilting Mike's chin to assess the damage. "If he'd hit any harder that ball would have broken your nose. You're gonna be alright, but you'll definitely have a shiner tomorrow."

Mike sighed, dropping the ice to his lap and opening a single blue eye to look at Harvey.

"I can't wait."

Harvey reached into his gym bag and pulled out a bottle of over the counter pain meds.

"Here," he said, dumping a few into Mike's hand and, gently rotating his bad shoulder, shook a few more out into his own.

He tilted his head back, dry swallowing the pills and then looked at Mike expectantly.

"Well?"

Mike's face turned red in all the places it wasn't already swelling and his good eye looked away.

"Can I have some water?" He asked sheepishly.

Harvey stared at him a moment, appalled, and then stood, shaking his head as he went in search of a cup.

"Unbelievable, kid. Just…un-freaking-believable."

_**Thoughts?**_


	3. Golf

**A/N:** Again, many people had something in common with Mike in the last chap (for the record, I can't dry swallow pills either, it just seemed like the kind of thing Harvey probably CAN do). And I'm soooo happy people are enjoying this! I'm enjoying writing it immensly. So, several of my favorite fics were updated today, so I decided to follow suit (gigglesnort, suits!). Some might argue that this next sport is actually an 'actiivity' not a 'sport' but...I don't care. Lol. It works for the fic!

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><p><strong>Part Three – Golf<strong>

Harvey had enough sense to know Mike didn't know the first thing about golf.

The fact that when he mentioned the two of them were going upstate to play some golf with a client that weekend and Mike had asked if he should go out and get himself some green plaid pants, and the damn kid hadn't been joking, might have been Harvey's first clue.

Still, when Mike showed up at the Babbling Brook Country Club in a pair of nice khakis and a fresh white polo, Harvey assumed the kid had at least read up on the sport and didn't give it much more thought.

What he hadn't counted on was Mike working feverishly into the night on some files he'd taken home and had fallen asleep on his couch, waking up only minutes before the taxi Harvey had ordered for him honked outside.

No time for golf research included.

And Mike somehow didn't have the forethought, or maybe self-preservation instincts, to mention this when Harvey made him his caddy.

Harvey would live to regret that decision.

The first six holes went down without a hitch. Harvey made sure to make his requests clear and all Mike had to do was make sure the golf club he handed the man matched the number Harvey had said.

Mike could handle this.

But on the seventh hole, Mike's phone went off (and was that kid _ever _going to learn how to turn it to 'silent'?) and he fumbled for a full fifteen seconds trying to get it out of his pocket without dumping all the golf clubs to the ground.

Harvey nearly rolled his eyes out of his head.

The eighth and ninth holes were a little tense, but were largely without incident, though Mike had to now endure scathing looks from the other caddies.

At the tenth hole Mike decided it would be best if he just stayed out of the way, and wandered over to the other side of the putting green, waiting quietly. He knew that much, golf courses were supposed to be quiet.

He didn't realize he was supposed to stay far away from the hole, which he was in direct line of sight of and therefore a distraction, until Harvey marched over to him, took hold of his elbow, and physically extracted him from the situation, telling him to stick to the other caddies like glue and maybe Mike would 'learn something about the sport'.

By the time the thirteenth hole came around Harvey was just glaring at Mike until the kid put his hand on the right club, and nodded so Mike would hand it to him (Mike would later find out this was because Harvey was losing, in order for the now _very _tipsy client to save face or not, Mike would never be sure).

But at the fifteenth hole Harvey found himself in what Mike would have called a large, round sand box and asked for something called a 'pitching wedge'. Mike stared down at the golf bag, perplexed. They were all sort of wedge shaped. So, hoping for the best, he picked one club at random and handed it to Harvey. By the look the man gave him, Mike figured he'd picked the wrong one.

The sixteenth hole marked Mike's demotion to 'golf cart driver'. But Mike had always had too much energy to just sit around.

By the eighteenth hole he'd taken to standing just outside the cart, watching the others play.

Mike heard someone in the distance yell 'four' and wondered what type of golf they were playing that they were yelling out their scores.

He tilted his head when Harvey, the two clients and both their caddies ducked and covered their heads.

And then the world went black.

Mike awoke to the sensation of being horizontal and what was probably Louis smacking him repeatedly in the head with the Bainbridge briefs (which was a bit of an oxymoron because those damn things were never brief).

Several heads were silhouetted over him, blocking out the noonday sun, but one stood out from the others.

Harvey smiled upon seeing Mike's eyes flutter open, and shook his head. Slowly he helped Mike sit up, a steadying hand at his back when Mike swayed slightly.

"Easy Mike, you were out for a few seconds, how do you feel?"

Mike just groaned and gratefully accepted help onto the cart and Harvey's hand on his shoulder keeping him upright on the short ride back to the clubhouse.

Mike luxuriated in the air conditioning once inside and sighed in relief when Harvey appeared beside him with an ice pack, feeling a hint of déjà vu.

"Kid," Harvey said with a sigh and a smirk on his lips, "I'm beginning to think sports just aren't your thing."

_**Apparently the alternate title to this fic should be 'several times Mike got hit in the head'...**_


	4. Polo

**A/N:** Hahaha, the number of people who want a fic where Mike gets hit in the head...awesome. I actually might do that. Enjoy the next one and as always Giant Humungo thanks and fresh baked cyber cookies to everyone who reviews!

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><p><strong>Part Four – Polo<strong>

If Mike had been a hyperactive kid in a bouncy bounce for the first time, this kind of behavior might have been appropriate.

He was not.

And he was driving Harvey crazy.

Harvey, of course, had been on a private jet or two before. At least a dozen of the clients he'd brought into the firm had one.

Harvey would have guessed Mike had never been inside one even before he came on board and started running around like he wanted to be everywhere at once and never quite finishing a sentence.

"Harvey did you see…Oh man! Come look at this…Wow I can't believe…"

"Mike," Harvey said as patiently as he could, which meant it came out more like a bark with a glare behind it. He was sitting in one of the plush seats near a window, glancing idly through a newspaper when he looked up and met Mike's eyes from the other end of the plane where the young man was ogling the gold plated bathroom.

"Yeah?" He asked, eyes still bouncing around, trying to take everything in.

"Sit."

Mike huffed and looked like he'd just gotten his favorite toy taken away, but he came and slid into the chair across from his boss. His eyes rolled back in his head at the comfort and the one flight attendant immediately appeared beside him, holding out a drink.

Mike looked at her like she'd been sent from heaven.

Harvey rolled his eyes.

Sighing, he reached down into his briefcase and pulled a book out, sliding it across the table toward Mike.

"The Basics of Polo." Mike read, pinning Harvey with a quizzical look.

"Yeah. You should read it before the game tomorrow."

Mike's eyes widened to a painful degree and he glanced between the book and Harvey several times before he was able to speak.

"The _game?" _

Harvey carefully kept his face neutral despite the panic in Mike's voice.

"Don't worry kid," he went back to his newspaper, "You'll be wearing a helmet."

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><p>Mike had whined. He'd protested. He'd flat out refused.<p>

And yet he still found himself standing in the stables outside the Polo field, a uniform in one hand, a horse assignment in the other.

"What are you waiting for?" Harvey asked, eyebrows raised, "go change."

Mike turned to look at him, the look on his face murderous.

"Harvey. I don't know the _first thing_ about horses."

"You read the book."

"Yeah, I know the rules of the game. I'm more qualified to ref this match than to play in it."

"It's easy."

"Says the guy not preparing to get on a two ton animal and ride around swinging sticks."

"I think they're mallets."

"Harvey, the closest thing I've had to animal interaction in my _lifetime _are the rats in the subway."

"Well there you go."

Mike didn't respond and Harvey sighed. If the kid didn't look frustrated almost to the point of tears (and no associate of his better be tearing up at the thought of getting on a horse) he would have turned and walked away right then.

Instead he took a step closer to Mike so he could lower his voice a few octaves.

"Look, this is part of getting it, okay? I've got to talk Mr. Durant _back _into Pearson Hardman. His kid loves Polo, ergo, _we _love Polo. Victor Durant is playing today and Mr. Durant never misses one of his son's matches. I'm going to go find him, you're going to play the game." He paused and then, taking a bit of pity on the kid, held up his hand, depositing something into Mike's. "Don't eat these. They're so the horse will like you. God knows you can use all the help you can get."

Harvey started to walk away and Mike sighed, looking down at the sugar cubes in his hand.

"Oh and Mike?"

He looked up to see Harvey had turned around and was smirking at him.

"Don't fall off."

Mike scowled. "Don't fall off," he mocked.

"I heard that."

"You were meant to!"

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><p>Mike had done his very best.<p>

He'd put on the uniform. But puce green really wasn't his color and the kneepads made it hard to walk. He looked like one of the old-timey cowboys after they'd been riding too long.

He'd given the horse the sugar cubes. But the damn thing had stood still only long enough for him to put the saddle on. The moment he tried to step up into it the horse had taken off down the hall, leaving Mike running behind it, yelling for it to 'woe' or 'halt' or whatever it was that made horses _stop!_

And at some point early in the game Mike had officially started to hate the sport of Polo. His ass was sore, his arm hurt from where other riders kept running into it and twice he dropped his mallet.

By late in the first half he'd started to hate horses as well, as his just seemed hell bent on going the opposite direction Mike wanted it to. Or maybe the horse just hated Polo as much as Mike did.

But it wasn't until the middle of the second half that Mike decided he hated Harvey Spector. Not until one of the other players decided to demonstrate a proper 'riding off' and bumped his horse into Mike's. Mike, unable to keep his balance, fell six feet to the ground.

Game play was paused and the other rider was punished with a penalty but Mike didn't honestly care about that. Because the ground was _hard _and it _hurt _to have the breath knocked out of you.

After a few seconds the pain receded and he could breathe a little easier. When he opened his eyes he was faced with long white teeth and foul smelling breath.

He gasped and turned his head to one side when the horse started to nuzzle and lick and generally get spit all over him.

"Ugh," Mike grimaced, "Harvey damn well better get Durant back after all of this."

"Was there ever any doubt?"

Mike opened his eyes and found the horse was gone and Harvey was looking down at him, hands stuffed into his pockets with a smirk on his face. He held out his hand and Mike took it, allowing himself to be helped to his feet.

Harvey reached out, patted the top of his helmet and grinned sarastically.

"See? Aren't you glad you're wearing a helmet?"

_**Only one more until we get to see Mike having some MAJOR skills...**_


	5. Baseball

**A/N:** It's been so long! I'm sorry, I was moving (and unbelievably may be moving again within the next couple weeks) and the papers I had this chap written on long hand were all packed up. So here's the last 'Mike sucked' chapter...I'd love to hear your thoughts, your reviews so far have been amazing!

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><p><strong>Part Five – Baseball<strong>

Harvey had learned his lesson.

He would never again be putting the kid into a situation where he had to display any kind of physical coordination. And not just because every time he did Mike embarrassed himself and therefore managed to embarrass Harvey as well (though that was certainly a factor). But also because he was worried if the kid got another head injury he might lose that handy little photographic memory and Harvey would have to go associate shopping again (it might also have had something to do with the way Harvey's stomach twisted every time Mike winced from bruises for days on end after an unfortunate sports encounter but Harvey couldn't be sure).

But Harvey was certain (or he hoped) that sitting in the bleachers at a Yankees game wasn't something Mike could get injured doing. As long as he kept an eye out for any foul balls headed their way (because there was no way Harvey was going to let Mike wear his bicycle helmet inside the stadium).

"Wow, this is amazing Harvey!" Mike said, head tilted all the way back in awe, blue eyes seeing every detail of the stadium and cataloging them in perfect detail.

"I can't believe you've never been to a game." Harvey responded, leading the way to their seats.

Harvey wore a Yankee's cap and a Harvard tee and jeans. Mike had some nondescript ball cap on facing backwards and looking about ten years old, along with a plain white t-shirt and jeans.

"Never really had the money," Mike said casually, settling into the seat and looking around, "I could see the fireworks they light off on the fourth of July from the roof of our building though."

Harvey was briefly distracted by the thought of a young, curious Mike sneaking out onto the roof of his apartment to watch fireworks when he was supposed to be in bed. Honestly, he thought as he looked over at Mike sitting in the seat beside him, the kid probably hadn't changed much in all these years.

"Hey, yo!" Mike shouted, waving his hand around.

Harvey followed his gaze and saw a concessions guy approaching their section.

"Can I get a beer?"

Harvey smirked when the man asked to see Mike's ID.

"Shut up," Mike scowled at him, and then glowered when the man gave Harvey his beer, no ID required.

"So are you going to explain this game to me or what?" Mike asked, sipping his beer and watching the local celebrity throw out the first pitch, his left leg bouncing uncontrollably.

"Didn't you read up on it before we came?" Harvey asked before taking a huge bite of his hot dog. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head. There was _nothing_ like a ball park hot dog.

"Yeah, I read the rules and stats on the players. But I thought you could give me a more…passionate perspective. It being your favorite sport and everything." Mike finished in a hurry and gulped down the rest of his beer.

Harvey looked over and Mike met his gaze, it was earnest and waiting if not a bit embarrassed. It was the same look he wore when he asked for Harvey's help on a case.

Louis had been right about one thing (though he'd be damned if he ever told him so). The kid _was _desperate for a mentor.

And he had done _exceptional _on the Markle case, so Harvey guessed it wouldn't kill him to humor the kid. Just this once.

"Well, you see the problem with all those analytical numbers crunching websites you probably went to to learn the sport is that they miss the whole point of what Baseball is really all about. It's something that has to be experienced, it's about…"

Harvey spent the whole first inning explaining to Mike the finer points of America's favorite pastime, with the younger man hanging on his every word. The Yankees were winning on through the fourth inning and Mike and Harvey joined the crowd in cheering them on. In fact, Harvey got so excited when, during the fourth, one of the players stole home base that, when Mike offered him a high five, Harvey completed it, suppressing a smile at the ear-to-ear grin that exploded on the kid's face.

Not much happened during the fifth inning and Harvey didn't notice it really when Mike stopped being so talkative. By the sixth inning the other team had tied up the game and Harvey was too busy yelling coaching tips at the field to really notice how long it had been since Mike had spoken at all.

Mike was flattered, thrilled even that Harvey had invited him to the game (in the form of dropping a ticket on Mike's desk and telling him what time Ray would be by to pick him up). But he hadn't slept since _Thursday_ trying to finish up the Markle case and all he really wanted was to lie in bed for a week.

But he'd never been to a Yankees game and who knew if Harvey would ever ask again (and there had been something akin to excitement in Harvey's eyes when Mike said he would go and he'd never seen that before).

So, sucking it up, Mike had downed a couple red bulls, given himself a pep talk in the mirror and jumped in Ray's limo.

He was definitely feeling the effects of the energy drinks during the first two innings, he could barely keep still. But by the fifth inning he was crashing and by the sixth he was dead to the world.

The next time Harvey looked over at Mike it was when he didn't get up during the seventh inning stretch.

His eyes widened in horror upon seeing Mike's head lolled back, mouth dropped open, completely, and thoroughly asleep.

"Oh no."

At that exact moment a camera man caught sight of Mike's slumbering form and seconds later the kid's face was being shown on the jumbotron, in all his snoozing glory.

Harvey was nearly to the aisle when the first 'Boo's started.

Mike awoke to the sensation of being pelted with popcorn, empty water bottles and a hot dog that would undoubtedly stain.

He looked around frantically, confused for a moment, before he realized what was going on and spotted Harvey at the top of the stairs on his way out.

Mike leapt up from his seat, running up the steps and hoping to catch up. When he got outside Harvey was already inside the limo and Mike's shoulders slumped, watching it drive away.

He caught a cab and went home, passing out on his bed without so much as another thought and got all the sleep he needed the rest of the weekend through. But when he got to work Monday there was a stack of briefs the size of a small child on his desk.

The post it note on top was in Harvey's handwriting and said he _better _have them all done by the end of the day because falling asleep at a Yankee's game was just _wrong _and he was lucky Harvey hadn't decided to feed him to Louis.

And, Mike decided, he really was, so he'd taken off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and gotten to work.

But in the back of his mind, he couldn't help but hope for the chance to show Harvey he wasn't a _complete _sports failure.

_**Up next...TOTAL DOMINATION!  
><strong>_


	6. Total Domination: Basketball

**A/N:** So this is the part we've all been waiting for (for a LONG time...sorry about that...). The one sport Mike dominates at. Thanks for all the fabulous reviews and congrats to those of you who guessed it! I hope you enjoy the last chap!

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><p><strong>And The One Time Mike OWNED The Court<strong>

Harvey was frowning down at a paper in his hand when Donna spotted him. She brought her fresh cup of Partner's Break Rom coffee to her lips and caught up to him, walking side by side back to his office.

"You can't not pick him," she informed around a smirk, looking toward the windows that faced the Manhattan skyline.

Harvey huffed, not even asking how she already knew about something he had only just been informed of.

"I'd be doing the kid a favor. He'd probably trip on his way to the court, fall, break his neck and we'd be out an associate again."

"Harvey..." Donna said in that 'you're being dramatic again' tone.

"Not to mention the fact that watching Mike break his neck might do the opposite of what this charity basketball game is supposed to do, namely raise money for the Boys' and Girls' club and _not _traumatize the couple hundred kids who are going to be there watching."

Donna seamlessly broke off from Harvey and settled at her desk while he went into his office and sat as his own.

After a few moments her voice came across the intercom. She was still facing her computer.

"You know you can't not-"

"Yeah I know." Harvey snapped, flipping open a file with more force than necessary. "But if that kid ends up costing us the game and we lose to _Louis_ I'm gonna kick his ass."

Donna smirked at her computer screen.

"You never know Harvey. He might surprise you."

Harvey snorted. "Yeah he might. By making it through this game without a head injury. That would be surprising."

A little while later when Harvey told Mike he had a spot on Harvey's team for the charity Basketball game (a backup spot where there was a lower risk of actual game play and the head injuries that would inevitably follow, but a spot nonetheless), he'd been expecting that wide-eyed look of horror to cross the kid's face. Definitely some complaining and probably a bit of whining too for good measure. He'd even been prepared for the possibility of an 'I don't get to see my grandmother enough as it is and I'm supposed to stop by that day' sob story.

What he hadn't been expecting was the tilted head of mild interest and hint of amusement that played behind Mike's blue eyes before he simply shrugged and accepted the news along with the handful of briefs Harvey gave him.

And Harvey watched him curiously as he walked away.

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><p>Harvey was seething.<p>

Somehow he knew, he just _knew _Louis had planned this from the beginning. How he managed to make sure the score was tied by the end of the game, he hadn't quite worked out yet, nor how he convinced Jessica to agree to a game of 'Twenty-One' in lieu of traditional overtime. But the fact that this impromptu game of one-on-one had somehow managed to be set up between Mike, who'd warmed the bench all afternoon (right where he belonged) and Louis' own protégé Kyle (who'd been stuck in court all day and was the only fair choice since the rest of Louis' players were winded, or so the Junior Lawyer said) pointed to a diabolical plot of Louis' making as the only logical explanation.

"Harvey."

The man turned slightly to one side and saw Mike hovering beside him.

"Um, which," he began in a low voice and glanced around quickly, "which hoop is mine?"

Harvey very nearly groaned audibly. Forcing a deep breath, trying to reconcile the fact that he was about to _lose _to _Louis_, he reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"It's a half-court game of 'Twenty-One', Mike. You're both going to the same hoop." He opened one eye to see Mike still staring at him. He sighed. "That one."

Mike followed his gaze and then nodded. "Okay."

The kid trotted away from him and Harvey shook his head, holding in the urge to call out for him to 'be careful'. Good associates were hard to come by, after all.

Mike approached where Kyle was already waiting out on the floor. His decade old scuffed Air Jordan sneakers and baggy blue gym shorts were a stark contrast to the other lawyers gleaming white and red ensemble.

He nodded at the referee, holding a basketball out in front of him, preparing to toss it into the air for the tip off, and then looked at Kyle, who wore a smug twist on his lips.

"By the way," he said, bending at the waist and hiking his shorts up slightly at the knees, "I was captain of the basketball team at my prep school."

"Good to know." Mike nodded solemnly before his blank look morphed into an almost wolfish smile. "And in the interest of full disclosure I should tell you that I played ball at Fredrick Douglas Park every day from the time I was ten until I went to college."

Kyle frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Mike's eyes flashed with mischief and he shrugged, feigning nonchalance and quickly took hold of his foot, stretching his quads.

"You'll see." He assured the other lawyer, and all words ceased as the referee threw the ball into the air and both men jumped, hands reaching high over their heads toward it.

Harvey had no idea what the hell had happened, but he was pretty sure his associate had been switched with someone who actually had skill. More than skill.

Mike was wiping the _floor _with Kyle.

It wasn't so much that he was scoring much higher than the other lawyer, their scores were pretty even (although with the way Mike was playing Harvey had the sneaking suspicion he was stringing Kyle along more than anything). It was more the _way _he was playing.

And Harvey had to admit, if the roles were reversed and Kyle was using the moves Mike was, he'd probably be as worked up as Louis right now (he'd never seen the the man's face turn quite _that _shade of red before). Still, the moves were legitimate. Flashy and unnecessary and general humiliating to Kyle, but legal.

And where had all this talent been the _last _five times he'd needed the kid to have some actual damn coordination?

Mike stood at the three point line, dribbling casually as Kyle leaned his hands on his knees and caught his breath.

"Not tired, are ya' Prep School?" Mike taunted, smirking. He usually didn't use nicknames, his grandmother had always said it was bad manners, but Mike had always considered the basketball court to be an exception to most of the rules his grandmother had taught him.

"What is this anyway, huh? Everybody knows you suck at sports." Kyle snarled.

"Shouldn't believe everything you hear, Kyle. Some might call that 'naïve'. 'Soft' even." Mike shook his head. "There's a lot of partners here tonight, you wouldn't want them to think of you that way, would you?"

Kyle made a noise similar to a roar and rushed at Mike, who was instantly on the balls of his feet. He took a half step toward Kyle, dribbling the ball between his legs once and then around behind his back, spinning out of the way and to one side, letting Kyle rush right past him. Instead of going toward the hoop though, he stopped, turning to face Kyle again. He absently watched the other lawyer and dribbled the ball under one leg and then the other, lifting them in tandem as Kyle took up a defensive stance in front of him.

"Scores 19-19, Kyle." Mike reminded him, "two more points and I win."

Kyle scowled. "Two more points and _I _win, Speed Bump." He spat the nick name, assuming he'd hit a soft spot, trying to get under Mike's skin.

The blonde laughed.

"Now, Kyle, that's not nice." Mike tilted his head to one side and quickly lifted the ball, bouncing it to Kyle's left and then juked to the right, meeting the ball behind Kyle before the other lawyer even had a chance to turn around.

Mike dribbled once, twice, eyes glued to the backboard as he approached and passed the ball under his leg and into the closer palm for an easy layup that had enough height to be a slam dunk if he'd wanted it to be.

He caught the ball after its trip through the net and smiled.

"19-20." He said loudly, trying to be heard over the sound of hundreds of kids going wild in the stands. "Your ball."

Kyle growled and snatched the ball from the air when Mike passed it to him.

Mike kept his arms out wide and stuck to Kyle like glue, matching him step for step on defense. It only took a moment for Kyle to get frustrated and make his fatal mistake. The ball had barely left his fingertips for the ill-fated jump shot when Mike's hand shot up, smacking it back down again and back into his possession.

He dribbled back to the free throw line and time seemed to slow down as he watched Kyle rushing toward him, a look of pure fury on his face. He looked toward the sidelines and saw Louis looking ready to explode, and kept searching, his blue eyes landing on familiar faces with unfamiliar looks painted across them.

He'd never seen Donna look surprised before and Jessica had never seemed pleased with him before and he'd certainly never seen that look of _pride _on Harvey's face before.

And why was he waving his arms like that?

"Oh," Mike said to himself, and turned back around, shooting the basketball with moments to spare before Kyle slammed into him. He felt the wind rush out of him when the other man's body hit his, and felt himself falling to the ground harder than he expected. He felt his head bounce against the floor and he felt it _hurt _like _hell_.

The last thing he felt before the world went dark was irritation. He didn't even know if his shot was good or not.

Mike awoke to dozens of heads hovering over him and it was sort of hard to breathe.

"Mike?"

He blinked his eyes open again and saw Harvey had pushed the other people back and his was the only head hovering above him.

"D'mk it?" He muttered, raising his hands to press against his face. An impressive headache was pounding at his temples.

"What?" Harvey said, leaning closer.

"Did I make it?" He said again, _God _his head hurt.

Harvey nodded, a small smirk on his lips.

"Yeah kid. You won." He shook his head, helping Mike sit up. "How you doin'?"

Mike sighed, "That sucked."

"Actually it was quite impressive." Harvey said, "Who knew you had skills like that?"

That made the younger man smile a bit and he opened his eyes fully, looking around. He saw Donna and the referee standing off to one side and the crowds in the bleachers looking out at the court with earnest expressions.

"Help me up," Mike muttered, trying to pull his feet under him.

"Mike I think you should-"

"The kids, Harvey," Mike muttered meaningfully.

Harvey turned to look over his shoulder, realizing that everyone in the stands, including a couple hundred elementary school-aged kids, were staring out at the court, looking worried for their injured underdog.

"Yeah, okay." Harvey nodded, pulling Mike's arm across his shoulders and helping him to his feet.

Mike gave a small wave, even as he tightened his grip on Harvey's shirt sleeve because the world wasn't staying quite upright like it should. The crowd seemed appeased and clapping and whistles rang out from all over the gym as Mike, aided by Harvey, approached the trio behind Donna.

Kyle stood between Jessica and Louis, both looked angry though Mike guessed it was probably for different reasons.

"That's what that means." Mike said, squinting in pain but smiling anyway.

Kyle looked confused. "What?"

"That a streetballer can whip a prep school captain's _ass_ any day of the week and twice on payday."

A scowl grew across Kyle's face again and Harvey turned them away before the smack talk could get any more out of hand.

"C'mon kid," he muttered, adjusting his hold on Mike to take more of the kid's weight.

"Did you see me, Harvey?" Mike slurred, his concussion getting the better of him.

"Yeah Mike, I saw you." He nodded, letting some of the fondness he felt in his chest come across in his voice because he was pretty sure the kid wouldn't remember it later. "You were great."

"Dude, I _dominated_."

Harvey snorted, "Yeah, that you did. And yet, somehow, you _still _managed to come away with a head injury."

END

_**I had to whump him a little bit to make up for the lateness of this chapter. Hope you liked it!**_


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